Sherlock's Dream
by yaoifangirlHolly
Summary: Sherlock has dream. About John. Do I gotta spell it out? Sherlock/John. M for some sexual content though it isn't graphic as such.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. The BBC do. And Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Story: Sherlock's imagination runs away with him. Slash. Written by request for one the kind reviewers of a previous fic. M for sexual content though it's not explicit.**

_We run down the alleyway together, and my heart is beating with the exhilaration. Alone in the darkness, we glance around, to make sure we're truly alone in this grimy London side street. _

_Deserted. _

_With a smile, we step up against the wall, and I don't care about all the mud against the back of my coat because you're pressing up against me with a smile. I press my lips together a moment and then you're leaning in to kiss me, and then moving your way down to my neck and I'm gasping for breath, the cold night air rushing down my throat all at once. _

"_How's that?" you're murmuring roughly and I'm nodding breathlessly._

"_Yes, yes," I nod urgently, anything for him to keep going, don't let him stop now._

_With a smile you lower to continue your kisses, urging my coat open. Impatiently I tug my buttons open to aid you along, sliding my coat open and shrugging it off, not caring that it falls to the dirty floor. Now my hands are free I waste no time in sliding them up underneath your jumper to savour the feel of your smooth skin, and delight in hearing you gasp._

"Morning!"

Sherlock jerked awake and sat up blearily, confused at the sudden sunlight. Mrs. Hudson, attired in a shocking lime green cardigan, was beaming generously down at him.

"John sent me to wake you up, dearie. You do know it's nearly 11?"

Sherlock nodded vaguely as she bustled out of the room, and ran his hands through his hair.

He'd never had a dream like that before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. The BBC do. And Arthur Conan Doyle.**

**Story: Sherlock's imagination runs away with him. Slash. Written by request for one the kind reviewers of a previous fic. M for sexual content.**

This time it's even more vivid.

_My back scrapes up and down against the brick. I'm calling out, gasping incoherently at the pleasure shooting through me as you roughly slide up and down inside me, pulling me closer for support._

"_John, John," I murmur, the most articulate expression of how good it feels that I can manage._

_You're nodding in understanding, agreement as you exhale roughly onto my bare shoulder and I slam back against wall again. I'll have bruises and cuts on my back tomorrow, but I don't care._

"_Great idea of yours...Sherlock," you murmur with another thrust and I can hear the smile on your face though my eyes are closed, face contorting with sensation._

"_My idea? No, it wasn't...my idea, was it?" _

_The dream is drifting from me and I frown. No – stay with it, stay with the dream..._

John smiled at Sherlock, asleep on the couch opposite his chair. He was muttering about something being his idea, that was typical Sherlock, even in dreams he had to be superior. He stood up, moving over to put a blanket over the man, but Sherlock's eyes snapped open.

"Oh, you're awake. I was just going to put a blanket on you."

"We should make love in an alleyway, John," Sherlock gestured lazily as he attempted to sit up.

"Excuse me? I think you're still half asleep, Sherlock. You don't know what you're saying."

"What a thing to say! I always know what I'm saying," Sherlock retorted. Clearing his throat he went on. "It was in the dream I just had." He put a hand to his head, trying to wake himself up.

John swallowed. "You had an erotic dream about me?"

"I would think that my current state would make that self evident." When John failed to understand Sherlock's meaning, the man sighed in exasperation and lowered his eyes. John followed his gaze to a bulge in his trousers.

"Oh," he said faintly; mouth dry.

"Yes, oh," Sherlock agreed.

"So...what did we do in this dream?" Now that John had locked eyes with Sherlock again he couldn't pull them away.

"Would you like me to show you, John?"

John must have been nodding without realising, for Sherlock's androgynous features were leaning in, his mouth opening to capture John's lips. It all happened very quickly from there, as Sherlock was already aroused from his dream, the evidence of which pressed against John as they moved back onto the couch together.

They struggled out of clothing, quickly and impatiently until Sherlock was going to remove John's boxers and John swallowed.

"S-Sorry. It's just...it's been a while."

"If I didn't wish to see what was underneath, I wouldn't be trying to remove them, would I?" Sherlock is smiling down in him in a disarming manner through the flush of his desire and John nodded, allowing him to continue, and then going to remove Sherlock's own underwear.

"In the dream," Sherlock murmured quietly. "You take me."

John smiled and nodded. "I see." Rolling over to be on top, he wrapped his hand around Sherlock's member and gave it a few firm strokes to distract him as he entered slowly.

Sherlock cried out in a pant, his face twisting, and John stopped at once. "Does it hurt, Sherlock?"

"No," Sherlock shook his head immediately. "No, please..."

Relieved, John pushed further inside, stopping to gasp a moment before he began to thrust. "I-I had forgotten," he exhaled softly as he moved. "How it felt."

"Me too," Sherlock whispered, then all he could do was pant John's name, as he had done in the dream, except that this was real, he could feel John, touch him. See him.

"You're going to have to have more of these dreams, you know," John laughed softly, before gasping as more intense sensations began to rock him. Sherlock was already beginning to cry out, hinting his release would be imminent. He was clenching around John's movements now, bringing them both to the precipice of pleasure.

Mrs. Hudson came in a short while later, to find them both curled up together on the couch watching television. Sherlock was, as always, complaining at the idiocy of the people involved.

"Hello, boys. I brought biscuits."

"Oh, how quaint," Sherlock muttered under his breath, but John elbowed him and smiled. "How kind of you."

"Have you boys been up to anything?"

John knew he couldn't look at Sherlock or he would laugh. Mouth twitching, he shrugged. "I was helping Sherlock re-enact a dream actually. For a case."

"Ooh, is it anything interesting?" Mrs Hudson bit down on a bourbon with relish.

"Fascinating actually. Strictly confidential though, of course," Sherlock admitted. "But I think a lot more research will need to be conducted." Bouncing off the couch, his grin had returned. "John, I will be needing your assistance, in my room."

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course." John rose to his feet too. "Sorry Mrs. Hudson. Important case, you know how it is."

Minutes later, as Mrs. Hudson was biting into her fifth bourbon, she heard what sounded like bedsprings creaking above, and dropped her biscuit into her tea in shock. "Oh dear," she murmured. "I do hope they don't hurt themselves. That Sherlock's experiments get more and more dangerous."

**I hope you enjoyed this one, I had a lot of fun writing it XD And if anyone reviewing has any further requests/ideas of a Sherlock/John fanfic they want me to do please let me know x**


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